


Haunting Past

by LaundryBasket (LaundryBasket____LuLuGal)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor Deserves Happiness, Gen, Hank Anderson & Connor Friendship, Hank Anderson Adopts Connor, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Protective Hank Anderson, Sick Character, Sick Connor, Young Connor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:40:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23914729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaundryBasket____LuLuGal/pseuds/LaundryBasket
Summary: At the close of a case, 13 year old boy Connor is found. Hank ends up taking him in and after 3 years the case they thought they left behind ends up coming back to haunt them.
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor, Hank Anderson & Gavin Reed
Comments: 17
Kudos: 87





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Love these two boys too much not to write a story about them. Let me know what you think! Kudos warm my heart and comments make my day! Stay healthy and safe out there!

“Hey dip stick! Take him home.” Gavins rough voice whispers through the empty office and quickly brings Hanks nose out of the case files. 

“What did you say to me?” 

Gavin sighs as if this is the hundredth time telling the older man. “It’s almost 12:00 and a school night.” Gavin motions to the still figure at the desk next to him. Conner is asleep over his algebra homework and has been for who knows how long. Hank instantly feels a pang of regret for once again getting absorbed in a case and neglecting the kid. 

“You sound a bit concerned there Reed, don’t tell me you’re finally getting a soft spot for Conner?” Hank smirks and begins to gather his things. Gavins face contorts to a sneer. 

“Of course not, I just don’t want to hear him crying about it tomorrow. Also I’ll be here another hour or so, do you really think I like looking at your ugly mug past midnight?” 

“Alright, alright, we’re leaving.” Hank stands and winces when his back pops in protest. His joints hate him for the abuse of sitting at a desk all day, especially when he bends over to grab his bag. 

Contrary to how they treat each other, Hank and Gavin’s relationship has improved. It’s gone from them threatening to murder each other on the hour to actually tolerating being in the same building. Hank thinks its due to the younger man sleeping beside him. 

Ever since Conner entered this police station it’s like every heart was thawed. Hank took in the kid when he was 13 and even though he has now grown to be a young man of 16, the women in the office still call him adorable little man after all this time. Gavin has warmed up to him too, but would rather shoot his own foot before admitting so. 

Once Hanks things are packed he moves over to the kid. The boy’s still sleeping soundly, looking more like the young boy he met what feels like a lifetime ago. Hank hates to wake him up but knowing that hunched over position can’t be comfortable he feels a little better. 

“Hey Conner, time to go home.” He says shaking his shoulder lightly. Conner’s brows scrunch and he nestles into his arms a bit more. Only now does Hank notice a slight flush to Conners cheeks. He reaches a hand out, feeling the kids forehead and frowns at the warmth to Conners skin. Maybe it’s just from sleep? He shakes again. “Come on kiddo, lets get you to bed.” 

Conners eyes open to slits and he sits up rubbing them. “Wha tim-sit?” 

“Past your bedtime. You were sleeping.” That gets a half hearted glare in response. 

"Wasn't sleeping." 

"Course not kid." He helps Conner pack up his homework and they begin to make their way out of the office.

“Night Detective Reed.” Conner says through a yawn, which gets a grunt in return. 

“Don’t go failing that Math test kid, you’re supposed to be some prodigy not a disappointment.” Reed says, waving his hand and returning to his own messy desk.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Connor replies, too tired to engage in proper banter.

The drive home is quiet and Hank notices Connor leaning his forehead against the cool window. 

“You feeling ok there Connor?”

“What? Of course Hank.” Connor says quickly.

“Alright, you’d tell me if you were feeling off right?” Hank doesn’t know if this is the time as a “parent” to prod but he feels as if the past three years have given him a least that title. 

“Of course.” Connor says again, turning to look out his dark window at the soft snow falling.


	2. Dead Men Don’t Snore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor has a nightmare that holds a past he would rather forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter happens the night they get home from the station from the first chapter. Update: I changed just a few things in this chapter that will go along better with the rest of the story I have planned ;) New chapter coming soon!

The clothes smell like cigarette smoke and the closet’s too small. It wasn’t so bad when Connor was 7 or even 10 but since then he’s hit a few growth spurts and his long limbs feel awfully cramped. His knees are pulled up to his chest and he wraps his arms around them to make himself as small as humanly possible, in a way to disappear into himself. If only that could be the case. 

The cracks in the closet door are usually enough to bring in some light so he’s not completely in the dark but Elijah has once again decided to plunge the whole room into darkness. 

The raised voices below tell him that Elijahs meeting might not be going too well, or whatever it is he does down there. Connor’s never actually been out of the closet at these times to find out. 

He squeezes his eyes and thinks of his mom, her soft touches, her sweet voice and her light hair that would tickle when she hugged him. That last hug is a memory he holds on tight to. He wonders what she would do right now, would she tell Elijah to stop or would she be right next to Connor holding him tight like she used to? 

It’s the sound of a gun going off downstairs that jerks Connor viciously out of his thoughts and he squeezes tighter into himself, hands jerking up to cover his ears. 

It’s not the first gun to go off in this home.

He knows Elijah will kill him for the noise but he can’t help the whimpers that escape his lips or the rocking back and forth his body starts on it’s own. 

There’s so much noise, so much. The chaos below is deafening. Dad-Elijah’s gonna be so mad. Connor rocks. 

He hears the foot steps coming up the stairs, slow and even. Usually that sound means he’s either released to go to bed or another beating is coming. Conner can guess which one it is tonight. 

He moves a hand from his ear to his mouth, cutting off a whimper and forces his breathing to slow down, even if it doesn’t stop the shaking. 

The bedroom door opens, freezing Connor in his place and suddenly the darkness turns to fragments of bright light. Releasing his mouth and placing his arms back into the tight hug around his legs, Connor waits. The steps move around the room but they aren’t as light as Elijahs, these being Heavier and less coordinated. Fear grips Connor in a new way and he stops his breathing all together.

“I could’ve sworn I heard something.” A man whispers, giving Connor a stronger drive to remain quiet. 

Suddenly the door to the closet is pulled open and Connor holds back a wince as much as he can to chance looking weak even though the lights are blinding.

Once his eyes fully adjust he sees an older man in front of him, scruffy and.....a police officer. Everything Elijah has ever told him about officers runs through his mind, but in this moment he doesn’t hold onto any of it from the look the man gives him. 

“Hey, it’s ok, it’s ok.” The mans voice is soft and he slowly comes down to kneeling, putting something behind his back. He looks a bit less intimidating but not enough for Connor to release the steel grip to his legs. 

Connor hears another set of foot steps reach the outside door and pulls himself tighter. 

“Johnson, back up ok. And get the paramedics ready.” The man says quietly, still looking right at Connor. The second man leaves. 

“My name’s Hank, wanna tell me yours kid?” He says in that same quiet voice. 

Connor doesn’t move. The man’s crouched down position doesn’t look too comfortable but he stays. He waits. Is this a test? Where’s Elijah? Will Connor get in trouble for answering or more for not answering? Knowing Elijahs hatred of cops he keeps his mouth shut. 

“You wanna at least tell me if you’re hurt there?” There’s a look in Hanks eyes that he’s never seen in his own fathers, it’s strange and he can’t quite place what it is but it feels...warm. He moves his head as little as he can in the movement of a shake of no and is surprised as Hank relaxes just a bit. 

“Do you mind if we take a look at you? I’ve got some really nice friends here who just want to make sure you’re ok. No one’s going to hurt you.”

The outstretched hand makes Connor slightly flinch at first but when no attack comes his grip on his legs eases up a bit. 

Connor nods, “ok.” He whispers, slowly untangling his limbs. Maybe he could trust...

Suddenly the sound that started the chaos of the night repeats itself but this time directly in Connors ears. 

Hanks eyes lose that look they’ve had and go blank as the front of his shirt turns red. Hank falls forward, nearly collapsing on Conner, to reveal Elijah standing behind him. Panic rises and Connors whimpers hold no sound. 

The belt is in one hand and the gun that just killed his best friend is in the other. 

“I thought I told you to keep your mouth shut Connor.” 

Connor wakes with a silent scream on his lips. 

It’s painful how long it takes for him to realize Elijah won’t come rushing in with the belt. Too long to realize where he actually is. Everything’s too hot and too dark and Connor swears his heart is going to explode as his fingers fumble trying to untangle himself from the sheets and fighting a sense of panic that hits.

“Just a dream. It’s just a dream Connor. Hanks alive. He’s alive and dad’s-Elijah’s gone. I’m safe. Hank saved me.” Connor repeats the mantra in shaking breaths but it brings no relief. 

The tears shouldn’t surprise him but they still do. “Come on. I’m not a kid. I am not a kid.” Connors lungs seem to have forgotten how to work and all he can see is that gun. 

He finally gets his legs free of his own personal prison and stumbles out of the bed, shivering at the cold air against the sweat on his body and more or less trips into his door. His skin is practically crawling and the dizzy feeling that hits him doesn’t help the nausea that rises or the weight that seems to be pushing down on him. 

He just has to see Hank, that’s all. He has to make sure he’s alive. His bedroom is just the one right down the hall. He just has to see him. 

The house looks different at night and even though he tells his brain this is his home now, their sanctuary, it doesn’t listen. The light from the moon leaves shadows all over and the dark spots only leave space for his imagination. 

The door to Hanks room is open as always and Connor tries steadying himself and his breathing to not wake the man up. His room is unbelievably dark and Connor wills his eyes to adjust quicker. 

It’s the sound of a deep lawn mower type snore that releases a breath in Connor that he didn’t even know he was holding. 

No dead man can snore that obnoxiously. 

Connor falls into the doorframe peering into the small room, his eyes landing on the lump underneath covers of blankets on the bed. His body feels suddenly like a doll who’s strings just got clipped and he slides down the frame listening to the comforting sound of his partner. 

Suddenly a giant mass comes out slowly from Connors room being the last straw for the teens beating heart. The shadows distort the figure and Connor feels his own body betraying him as he is weighted down in his place unable to move let alone breathe. 

This is it. His death. Either from this thing coming at him or from his heart giving out. He closes his eyes waiting for one or the other to happen. 

It’s when the wet tongue licks his foot that Connor processes it as Sumo. He must’ve scared the dog to death by freaking out through the night like he did. The pup comes up, laying down by his masters side. 

Fighting a sudden sob, Connor puts his head in his shaking hands, staying in tune with the snoring and finding comfort in the giant fluff pressed up against his side. He runs his fingers through his hair. 

“Just a dream. You were dreaming.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come just around the corner. Let me know your thoughts! Kudos warm my heart and comments make my day! Love you all, stay happy out there!


	3. Lingering Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor goes to school and things seem to go downhill. Of course Hank is worried.

Connor’s already up when Hank stumbles out of his room. 

The smell of coffee fills the kitchen giving Hank a hint of the much needed boost to wake up. He rounds the corner to find Connor looking dead on his feet. 

“Hey kiddo.” Hank comes up, giving a rustle to the boys bed head. He lingers a moment to see if Connor has gotten warmer. The slight warmth to his skin last night is still bugging Hank and seems it will continue to worry him; the heat is easy to feel from his sons forehead. 

His eyes are a bit red and the darker than usual circles underneath stand out in contrast to his pale skin.

“Rough night?” 

Connor shrugs, not looking at Hank and moves to grab two mugs when the coffee maker beeps. 

Hank’s no stranger to the teens sleeping problems but he frowns at the idea of him having another nightmare. The mornings always seem to be the worst for the boy, an aftermath of the night before. 

Sumo comes up and nudges Hank in the legs demanding a bit of attention himself. He gives the same rustle to the pups head as he did to Connors. 

Rubbing none too gently at his tired eyes, Hank slips into one of the wooden chairs at the table, making a groan in sync with the creaking wood. That’s it, no more late night case studies. 

“You know, you’re feeling a bit warm there.” Hank graciously accepts his coffee mug as Connor holds it out. “How does it sound to take the day off? We both call in sick, order some takeout and watch some old reruns? I know I can definitely take the day.” 

Connor finds his place at the table, giving Sumo a loving pat of his own and takes a long sip from his mug, swallowing thickly. 

“Can’t. I have that Algebra test today. Mr. Henderson would not appreciate it if I missed it.” Hank grunts in response.

Hank’s proud of the kid for sticking to his work but wishing for once Connor would put himself before it. Or simply put himself before literally everything and everyone else sometimes. 

The drive to school isn’t too eventful and Conner is more quiet than usual. Hank’s attempts to talk to the boy die down quickly. He knows Connor is more reserved after rough nights but it still pains him to see his usual cheerful boy so....shut down. 

They pull into the busy parking lot of the run down school littered with teenagers, one of them being Connors friend Marcus who, after seeing the beat up car pull in, waves to the both of them. 

“Marcus is waiting for me. Thank you for the ride Hank.” 

“Course kid.” The older man drums his fingers on the steering wheel. 

Connor gathers his backpack and smooths back that stubborn hair even though it within minutes will be back in place falling onto his forehead. 

Hank interjects as the passenger door opens. “Hey Connor, just...give me a call if you need me to come get you early or something.” Connor curtly nods, finally making eye contact with the older man. 

There’s something definitely off about his boy. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Usually the Lunch rooms excitement and buzz gives Connor a new sense of energy to take on the rest of the day, but today it only feeds into the current headache he’s nursing. Marcus and North are getting cozy at the table again, seems to be a theme lately, and Simon is excitedly explaining a new project he’s working on. 

One look around him and Connor instantly looks like the outcast. Too stiff in his movements and not nearly as alive as the others. He’s not really sure why Marcus invited him to be a part of their group but he’s grateful to his friend for it.

The test he’s been studying all week for was a complete bust and he over-all regrets coming to school at all. He was unable to focus on any of the swirling words or numbers on the pages and it’s as if time itself decided to work against him by speeding up. 

Connor picks at his sandwich and thinks back to the night before. In the moments of the darkness and nightmares it seems as if his heart will stop and the world will end. He sometimes wishes it would. This morning was no better, every time he closes his eyes he sees Hank getting shot again, those dead eyes and blood running down his front...he can’t even look at the man most mornings because that’s all he sees and he knows it’s his fault. 

He shakes his head as if he can shake the still lingering feelings. He thinks of the distance he feels he needs to create between himself and the Lieutenant, the nightmares have been a reminder to that. 

At first, when Hank took him in he was really good at keeping himself mentally at arms length and not getting too close, even though physically he stuck by the mans side like a lost puppy.

If Connor made a mistake; the disappointment in the older man wouldn’t hurt as much. If Hank died it won’t sting as bad. If Hank ended up hating him, beating him, he could take the abuse better if there’s no connection. His therapist says it’s one of his ways of “coping with his past and fear of it repeating itself” or whatever. 

In the past year or maybe even longer he has found himself leaning into the affection from his friend, enveloping himself in the love that Hank is trying so desperately to give, even if the man does so awkwardly. 

Connors head pounds at him and the stifling room feels warmer than usual. Maybe he should have taken Hank up on the rerun offer. He’s reaching for his phone debating taking up said offer. 

“-this weekend Connor?” His name being brought up pulls his attention. The room spins just a bit from looking up. 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“Where are you Connor? You’ve hardly said a word today.” Simon says. The others’ eyes are on him too. 

“Sorry, I’ve just got a lot on my mind.” He smiles but can tell it looks more like a grimace. 

“Josh was just saying we wanted to go up the canyon for a bonfire tomorrow, you in?” Simon says before taking a large bite out of his apple.

“Yeah, I’ll just have to talk to Hank about it.” He looks back down at his very unappetizing lunch, feeling his stomach flip. 

“You know, I love that old man. His music tastes are questionable but he’s pretty cool.” North pipes up, leaning back into Marcus. “Is he really strict? You know, because he’s a cop?”

“No. Hank’s cool.” Connor offers with a small smile. Marcus is looking at him, as if trying to get a read of what his friend is thinking.

“Are you feeling alright? Everything ok at home?” Marcus says with no hesitation, surprising Connor. He wonders how it’s so easy for his friend say exactly what’s on his mind. 

“Yeah, everything’s been great.” Connor quickly says. “Just busy with school and Hanks work.”

”Right, there’s been all those teenage cases involving that new drug or something?” North says and Connor doesn’t miss the look Marcus sends her way. 

“Yeah, but I don’t know too much about it.” 

“My thoughts are the police are making a bigger deal out of it than it really is. So what if people are dying, is that different than other drugs I mean-“

“North.” Marcus quietly interrupts her. She shrugs as if saying ‘whatever’. 

Suddenly a commotion erupts just outside the lunchroom. Students run in a frenzy towards the front of the school. 

“What on earth is going on?” Marcus untangles himself from North which results in a few protests. He makes eye connects with Connors nodding his head to the side as if asking if he wants to check it out with him. To which Connor answers in a nod and tosses his uneaten lunch into a nearby trashcan, picking up his bag to go. 

The closer they get to the front the louder the yells get. 

“He’s going to jump!”

“Someone stop him!” 

“Is that a gun?” 

“Call the police!” 

Connors pace quickens and he shoves himself through the front doors not caring that he bumps into a few people on his way. 

Snowflakes and students fill the courtyard and Connors whole body goes on full alert, searching for the source of chaos. 

The pointed fingers and shouts of distress point Connor to the roof of the clock tower where someone stands on the edge, their clothes whipping in the cold wind. 

It’s Daniel. And he has a gun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a while! I hope you like this chapter! I love your comments and thank you so much for the Kudos! Let me know what you like! Feedback is always welcome!


End file.
